


I Do

by DiaryofaMadTheaterMajor



Series: Adventures of Les Amis [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaryofaMadTheaterMajor/pseuds/DiaryofaMadTheaterMajor





	I Do

Grantaire had received the call two weeks before he left. He was cuddling with Enjolras when his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

            “Hi, is this Grantaire Dupont?” A woman’s voice asked.

            “Yes, it is. May I ask who’s calling?” He sat up on the couch.

            “This is Renee Lambort. I work at the Art Museum of Paris and your teacher Mister Pratchett had sent some works from his class and we want to put yours up in our upcoming gallery.”

            Grantaire almost dropped the phone, “Y-you want to put my works up in your museum in Paris?” His hands were shaking.

            “That’s right. The gallery opens in two weeks, could you be here by then? We’d love for you to bring a few more works with you.” Renee said.

            “O-Of course! Yeah! Thank you so much!”

            “I’ll have a representative call you tomorrow evening.” She said.

            Grantaire could only nod, “Okay.”

            “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

            “You too.”

            He hung up and he hugged Enjolras tightly, tears streaming down his face.

            “Oh my God! I can’t believe it!” Grantaire exclaimed.

            “I’m so happy for you. R, I can’t believe it! You deserve this. Your art is perfection.” Enjolras kissed Grantaire on the lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

            When Grantaire announced that he was going to Paris at the Amis meeting that night, the room erupted in cheers. They all ordered drinks and got wasted. Jehan sat on Courfeyrac’s lap as he talked with Grantaire. “The city of Paris is beautiful. I’d love to explore the catacombs. It’s sad, isn’t it? To have died never to know the marvels of the modern world. To have died from disease that we could so easily cure.  Their names are lost to history and yet to think we could’ve been friends.” Tears formed in Jehan’s eyes, “If only I could meet the dead and tell them how beautiful life is now. I would love to see Paris in the eighteenth or nineteenth century. The suffering of the people was much greater than the Parisians today.  Do you think that when this world ends, we’ll return to the grace period and re-revolutionize France?” Jehan asked Grantaire who was nodding in and out of sleep.

            “Huh? Yeah. Death.” He stood up and walked over to Enjolras. Courfeyrac and Jehan began to make out sloppily.

            Bahorel and Feuilly were standing chest to chest while Joly was trying to prevent a fight. Combeferre and Enjolras were red in the face, tears streaming down their cheeks and talking about the future. Marius was sitting in the corner watching all of this with intrigue, he hadn’t had that much to drink.

            Loud shouts echoed from where Combeferre and Enjolras were talking. Courfeyrac and Jehan were now on top of each other making out on the floor. Feuilly and Bahorel were shoving each other while Joly hid near Marius.

 

            The original plan was that Grantaire and Enjolras were going to go to Paris together but a week before Grantaire was set to leave Enjolras dropped out. “I can’t. My grandmother is really sick. They think she’s going to die.” Enjolras said holding Grantaire’s hand.

            “Oh God. Enjolras, I’m so sorry. Go home, your family is more important than my art.”

            “Believe me, I’d rather be with you. Your art is more important than my family but I’d never hear the end of it.” He squeezed Grantaire’s hands.

            “I love you.” Grantaire said.

            “I love you too.” Enjolras kissed the artist on the lips. A few days before Grantaire was supposed to leave, he dropped Enjolras off at the airport. Enjolras kissed Grantaire deeply before getting out of the car. “Call me when you get there.” Grantaire said.

            “I will.”

            “I love you, Apollo.”

            “I love you, Dionysus.”

            Grantaire waved as Enjolras walked into the airport. Grantaire drove back to their apartment which seemed so empty without his boyfriend.

            He spent the rest of the night packing for Paris. One full suitcase later, he poured himself a glass of wine and then went to bed.

            The next morning he woke up to a text from Enjolras, ‘Sorry, phone died. I’m here safe and sound. Going to visit my grandmother.’

            ‘Alright. Leaving for the airport in a few minutes. ‘Ferre is driving me.’

            ‘Have a great plane ride.’

            ‘I will. I love you, my darling.’

            ‘I love you more, my beautiful artist.’

            Grantaire smiled at the text, and he heard a knock at the door. He grabbed his suitcase and opened the door. A bleary eyed Combeferre gave him a small wave. “Joly is in the car. He had coffee and donuts.”

            “You’re a saint.” Grantaire said locking the door behind him and following Combeferre down to his car.

            “Hi Grantaire!” Joly chirped from the front seat. Joly was the only person Courfeyrac knew who could be so chipper at eight in the morning.

            Grantaire got into the back seat and was handed a cup of coffee and a pink box of a dozen donuts was placed in his lap. “Use a napkin.” Joly reminded.

            Grantaire got the bear claw and passed the box up to Joly who was telling Grantaire about how he had recently though he had plaque psoriasis but it turned out to be an allergic reaction to guava.

            When they stopped at the airport, Joly and Combeferre kissed Grantaire goodbye. He waved goodbye and went into the airport.

            Eight hours later, he touched down in Paris. It was two o’clock in the morning there. Grantaire, to his surprise, was picked up by a driver and taken to his hotel. He had found out that the museum and its sponsers were paying for Grantaire’s hotel room. When he got to his hotel room, his jaw dropped. This was the nicest room he had ever seen in his life. If only Enjolras were here, he thought glumly.

            He stripped to his boxers and climbed into bed. He woke up the next morning at noon Paris time, but New York time it was four in the morning. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went into the bathroom. He showered, and shaved.  He got dressed and went down to the lobby and got a map of Paris.

            He managed to find his way to the Eiffel Tower, and began sketching the Tower and the people surrounding it. He looked up from his drawing and stood up suddenly when he saw a head of blonde hair in a crowd. “Enjolras?” He asked. He sat back down and shook his head, Enjolras was in Massachusetts

            He spent the rest of the afternoon sightseeing, he managed to get a few decent sketches in before he went back to his hotel to get ready for the exhibit that night. He got dressed in a black and white tuxedo, and while he waited he called Enjolras. “Hey, lover.”

            “Hey R, how’s Paris?”

            “Good. I wish you were here. I wish I could be here longer.”

            “I know I wish I was there too. It sucked not waking up next to you this morning.”

            “How’s everything over there?”

            “Well, half the time my family is arguing and half the time they’re insulting me or insulting us. My mother and father actually brought someone over to the house today.”

            “What did you say?”

            “I told them, ‘You could bring me the richest man on earth. You could bring me the prince of some foreign country, but I’ll never love someone as much as I do Grantaire.’”

            Grantaire sniffed, “That was sweet. I should get going, the taxi is picking me up soon.”

            “Alright. I love you.”

            “I love you too.”

            Grantaire hung up and went downstairs and into the lobby. He got a phone call from the cabbie who said that he was outside. Grantaire went into the taxi and told him the name of the museum. His heart was pounding furiously inside his chest. _What if they don’t like my art? What if they just laugh at it? Oh God, they’re gonna hate my art. I just know it. Why couldn’t Enjolras be here, damn it._ Grantaire thought tugging on his sleeves.

            Grantaire paid for the cab, and got out and stopped in front of the museum. Inside, the place was crowded and he could hear muffled music. Grantaire took a deep breath and went inside, “Oh there you are! Grantaire Dupont! How fabulous to finally meet you!” A woman who he assumed to be Renee greeted him.

            He shook her hand, “Good to meet you too.”

            Grantaire was led around the museum and he shook up to a dozen hands and heard names that went over his head. When he got a moment of peace he wanted over to the part of the gallery when his, and several other students’, artwork was displayed. He smiled when he saw the painting of Enjolras he had done. He called the painting, ‘Apollo’ and had made Enjolras dress in a yellow robe and stand for hours on end. Another was a sketch of the Amis at the Musain. Enjolras was in the middle of giving a speech, Combeferre was listening intently, Joly was tying gauze around Bahorel’s knuckles after he had broken a wine bottle. Feuilly was getting ready to interrupt Enjolras, Jehan was sitting on Courfeyrac’s lap and their eyes were locked. Marius was listening to Enjolras speak, Bossuet was observing Joly.

            He felt a hand on his shoulder, he turned around and Enjolras was standing behind him. “Hey.”

            “What’re you doing here? I thought you—“

            “I lied. I came to Paris because I know a guy who owes me a favor and plus I wanted to be here for this.” Enjolras’ face grew red. “I have...something that I want to ask you.”

            Enjolras reached into a pocket and pulled out a small blue box, “Grantaire Dupont, will you marry me?” Enjolras sank down on one knee and opened the box.

            Tears fell from Grantaire’s face, he looked at the ring in front of him and at the boy kneeling in front of him. Six years of pining over this boy and here they were. Grantaire choked back a sob and nodded, “Yes. Enjolras. I will marry you.”

            Enjolras stood up, slipped the ring on Grantaire’s finger and pulled him into a kiss. They slipped out of the museum and went straight to the Eiffel Tower where they kissed again and looked out at the bright lights of Paris, their hands intertwined.  


End file.
